Other Irish stouts are available

M&S House-magazine

I write those words after enjoying an excellent bottle of M&S Irish Stout, brewed by Carlow Brewing of County Carlow, Ireland. It was definitely the best dry Irish stout I've had in a long time, with a perfect balance of bitter can roasted flavours but at the same time smooth and without the harshness often associated with heavily roasted malts.

I would say that this particular Irish stout is it a different league to many of the others I have tried over the years which brings me on to Guinness, one of the best-known beer brands in the world and the runaway market leader when it comes to producing dry Irish stout. Guinness is regarded as the yardstick by which other stouts are measured, but despite the worldwide fame of the beer I've never been a huge fan, and certainly not of the draught version. I find it rather thin, and the roasted barley used in its production imparts a harsh taste, which I am not over keen on.

Leaving Draught Guinness to one side, back in the early days of CAMRA, I went through a phase of drinking bottled Guinness. At the time Guinness Extra Stout in bottled form, was naturally conditioned, having a thin layer of sedimentary yeast at the bottom of the bottle. CAMRA described the beer as “Real Ale in a bottle,” due to the fact that the yeast allowed the beer to condition and mature, naturally in the bottle. I was a lot more serious in those days about following CAMRA guidelines, and whilst bottled Guinness was an acceptable, and satisfying beer, it only came in half pint, 275 millilitre bottles. This was a real disadvantage, volume wise, compared to those drinking draught beer, even if it was keg, as when drinking in rounds, I always finished my beer, way before my companions. I was the one left with an empty glass, waiting for others to finish, and get a new round in.

As well as still containing live yeast, another strange hangover from the past was that Guinness allowed small regional breweries to bottle their Extra Stout on their behalf. The beer was delivered in bulk, by tanker, for the breweries to package, and then sell throughout their various tied estates. I'm not quite sure when this practise died out, or when Guinness Extra Stout ceased to be bottle conditioned, but it may have occurred when the company closed their large brewery at Park Royal, to the West of London, and concentrated all production at their main St James’s Gate Brewery in Dublin.

Heineken ad - do they now own both brands?

Prior to this, Park Royal had supplied the southern half of the United Kingdom, whilst the north received its Guinness from Dublin. The perception at the time was the Dublin product was superior to that brewed in London, although I'm sure this was all hearsay. It was possibly even a bit of one upmanship on behalf of the parent company, as I very much doubt anyone could have told the two versions apart.

Towards the end of the 1970s two other brands of Irish stout began appearing on the nation's bars. These were produced by a couple of Cork based brewers – Beamish and Murphy’s. The Beamish & Crawford brewery, situated in the heart of Cork city, was founded in 1792, by two local merchants, Richard Beamish & Richard Crawford. Beamish has a rich roasted flavour with coffee and dark chocolate undertones, making it a genuine Irish stout. To this day Beamish stout is being enjoyed in bars and homes throughout Ireland, but not it would seem, in the United Kingdom.

Murphy’s was founded in 1856, and is now owned by Dutch multi-national brewer, Heineken, although during the period I am referring to, Whitbread acted as distributor for the brand, in the UK. Upon seeing these brands on sale, I had to try them, despite both being keg products. Out of the two, I much preferred the Beamish offering, as it was smoother, and creamier than the Murphy's product, which had quite a harsh taste to it. Like the Guinness I was complaining about earlier, this was probably related to the amount of roast malt used in the grist.

By the start of the 80’s, there was no real need for me to continue with bottled Guinness, as cask-conditioned ale was in plentiful supply and widely available, in pubs up and down the land. However, my years of drinking Dublin’s most famous product left me with more than an occasional yearning, for a glass of dark, dry, Irish stout. This yearning was satisfied, in part, by the appearance of the Porterhouse brewpubs which set up shop in 2000, in London’s Covent Garden, four years after the original venue came into being, in Dublin. Both branches offer a range of house-brewed beers, including several dark ones, with Porter and “Plain” complementing the Irish stout.

I’m not 100% certain that the London outlet still brews, but I know that the Dublin Porterhouse does. I experienced the pub for myself in 2014, when I visited Dublin for the first, and so far, only time. I was in the Irish capital in order to attend that year's European Beer Writer’s Conference. My visit gave me chance to experience some of Dublin’s amazing pubs and bars, along with the city’s legendary nightlife, as well as trying Draught Guinness on its home turf. It might sound like sacrilege, but I was not terribly impressed with the beer, and it certainly wasn’t a patch on some of the other interesting locally brewed Irish stouts we got to try, that weekend

As part of the overall conference weekend, our group visited the Guinness Storehouse, an interesting experience which, once one looks beyond the marketing hype associated with the Guinness name, demonstrated the fascinating history behind the company.  Included in the tour, was a look at the brand-new brewery that Guinness had erected on the extensive St Jame's Gate site. It was still being commissioned, but a fully automated brewing plant, packed full of gleaming stainless-steel vessels and tanks, isn’t the most exciting thing to look at, so for many of us, the new Guinness Brewery wasn’t exactly the highlight of the trip.

If you’ve read this far, then I’m sure you’ll be aware that Guinness produce a strong, “export” stout for distribution overseas. Foreign Extra Stout (FES) first appeared in 1801, and has proved a firm favourite with drinkers, particularly those in parts of Africa and the Caribbean. Brewed to an abv of 7.5%, FES is much more heavily hopped than the Guinness Draught and Extra Stout brewed for home consumption. The extra hops were originally intended to act as a natural preservative for the long sea voyage to the sub-Saharan Africa and the West Indies.

Today sales of FES are said to account for almost half of Guinness sales, worldwide. It’s definitely a beer worth seeking out, and fortunately it’s a lot easier to come by these days. I have seen it on sale at Sainsbury’s at £2 a bottle, and I’m sure that other supermarkets will be stocking the beer as well. Without a shadow of doubt, Foreign Extra Stout is the best beer that Guinness produce, so it’s a good one on which to end this brief look at Irish Stout.

White Rose Country

Four days into June and still no sign of a blog post, although there's a couple of drafts in various stages of preparation. There seems to have been an absence of anything worthy to write about, although that could change next week, when the Bailey clan head off to the land of the Tykes, otherwise known as “God’s own country.”

We’re actually setting foot in the north country for a family funeral, the deceased being Mrs PBT’s Aunty Kathleen. She was a lovely, quietly-spoken lady who passed peacefully away a couple of weeks ago; just two months shy of her 100^th birthday. There must be something in the air up in “them thar hills,” as she always looked hale and hearty, so in an attempt to find that secret of eternal youth, we’ll be spending a few days in the area between Bingley and Keighley.

It’s been five years since we were last up that way, and despite the sadness that surrounds a funeral, it will be good to catch up with the northern branch of Eileen’s family. I’ve drawn the short straw with the driving again, despite Matthew having acquired a new car. I don’t tend to do that many long-distance road trips these days, the last one having been a short holiday to Barry Island, last September. Instead, I much prefer travelling by train, but that’s not really practical for a stay that will necessitate having the flexibility that only a privately-owned car can bring.

As far as beer and pubs are concerned, I shall just play things by ear, and go with the flow. I am aware we’ve been invited for a family meal on the evening after the funeral, and the venue will be the Airedale Heifer, an extensive roadside alehouse, with its own brewery (Bridgehouse), situated in a building behind the pub. We enjoyed a meal there, with Eileen’s Yorkshire relations, on our last visit, so we know both the food and the beer are of a high standard. There is the issue of driving there, as even though it’s only a 10-minute walk from the Premier Inn we’re staying at, Mrs PBT’s does have a few mobility issues these days. I shall probably order a taxi for her, and walk there myself, as that way, I can sample a few of the Heifer’s house-brewed ales.

I mentioned earlier that there wasn’t much to write about, but on reflection that isn’t quite true, as there’s been a couple of “good news” stories that have broken recently. The first story has an appropriate Tyke connection, as it relates to the embattled Black Sheep Brewery of Masham, North Yorkshire. After calling in administrators at the start of last month, Black Sheep has been acquired by London-based investment firm Breal Capital and will continue to trade under the same name. Breal has a proven track record of successfully transforming and growing the businesses it acquires, so fingers crossed they can turn Black Sheep’s fortunes around.

A spokesperson for the brewery said: "This marks the next chapter in the history of Black Sheep as we look to grow the business in a sustainable way. Our team will continue to produce great beers from our landmark brewery in Masham, North Yorkshire and we also look forward to welcoming customers and tourists to all our retail sites.”

The other good news story concerns major brewer and pub owner, Greene King, as this summer the company will be the first major cask brewer to offer its beers in 4.5-gallon casks, or pins. With the pub sector still feeling the impact of the cost-of-living crisis, and consumers making fewer visits to their local pub, GK believe that the introduction of pins will have a tangible effect on the cask ale market. Containing just 36 pints, half the size of the industry standard 9-gallon casks, pins will ensure a faster turnover of each cask, thereby enabling licensees to deliver a range of fresh cask beer to customers, whilst at the same time minimising wastage.

 

As proof of their commitment to this scheme, Greene King are making a seven-figure investment in order to bring it to fruition. CAMRA have been advocating this type of initiative for many years, so it will be interesting to see how it pans out, but on that note, I shall call it a day, as the work I’ve been performing outside needs my attention. 

It involves sorting out both our shed and our summerhouse, and is one of those long-overdue, “must-do” tasks. Fortunately, it’s nearing completion, but it did involve a bit of time-consuming, construction and repair work. That, gentle reader is the main reason why posts haven’t been as frequent as they might otherwise have been, but there is something virtuous in ticking this particular task off from my extensive list of jobs.

 

Final resting place

I wrote this article some time ago – two months previously, to be precise. Given the personal nature of the piece, I wasn’t sure whether or not it should see the light of day, but for better or for worse, and in the absence of anything else of note at the moment, here it is, warts and all. It begins on a rather damp and dismal day at the end of March.

On the final Wednesday in March, I made my first visit to Norwich since before the pandemic - October 2019 to be precise. Prior to then I had only made sporadic visits to the city, primarily whilst visiting my late father when he was residing in a care home in the small village of Gressenhall to the north of Dereham. Those visits mainly involved calling in at a couple of pubs on my way back to the station, and looking back there are only a handful of those, such as the Murderer’s and the Compleat Angler.

In the years preceding my parents decline in  health – physical for mum and mental for dad, I would drive up to Norfolk for the weekend - the county my folks had retired to. I would find a half decent bed and breakfast establishment or, better still, a pub, spend time with my parents during the day, and then retire for the evening to the B&B or pub I was staying at. This arrangement continued after mum passed away at the end of February 2015. A year or so later, my sisters and I took the difficult decision to move dad into a care home, due to the onset of Alzheimer's and the slow, but steady decline in his mental faculties. It then became easier to take the train to Norwich, followed by a bus, or a taxi to dad’s care home.

Dad sadly passed away in 2021, at the beginning of January, and whilst the cause of death recorded on the death certificate was stated as COVID, advancing Alzheimer's was almost certainly the real cause.  Apart from a brief visit in August 2020 where, because of COVID restrictions I'd only been able to talk to him through a half-open window, I hadn't seen dad since the autumn of the previous year. It was heartbreaking to see the deterioration in his health, brought on by the Alzheimer's, so in some respects his passing was a relief to all concerned.

In February of that year Eileen, Matthew and I drove up to Norfolk for dad's funeral. COVID restrictions we're still very much in force, which meant limited numbers at the funeral itself. In addition, as hotels, pubs, and restaurants were closed, there was no possibility of an overnight stay. Instead, it was a quick drive up to Norfolk for the ceremony, and then back to Kent. All this still makes me very angry, when hearing that serial liar, Boris Johnson defending his attendance at “works gatherings”, cake sharing and other activities that were quite blatantly contrary to the very laws his government imposed on us. Meanwhile those of us who had lost loved ones were unable to say goodbye properly or give them a proper send-off.

The interment of my parents ashes came about following discussions between myself and my two sisters. Neither mum nor dad had made any provision for where they wanted to end up, so to speak, and in fact I remember my mother flying off the handle when my younger sister asked her the question. This was totally uncalled for, although I think it was more a reflection on my mother’s fear of dying, than any real anger against her youngest daughter. After mum’s passing, we're aware that one or two people that my parents knew locally had been interned at Greenacres Woodland Burial Centre at Colney, on the outskirts of Norwich. As a result, we took the decision, with dad's blessing, to lay mum’s ashes to rest there, and in accordance with the Greenacre’s policy, that all memorials should be biodegradable, we had a wooden plaque carved in mum's memory, with space for dads details to be added when the time came. 

When that time did eventually come, my sisters and I took the decision that rather try and add dad’s details to the existing memorial, we would commission the original wood carver, to produce a new plaque, showing both mum and dads details. This was because when I had last visited Greenacre’s, in the spring of 2019, it was evident that after just four years the wooden memorial plaque had weathered quite badly and was starting to deteriorate. The new plaque was installed sometime towards the end of last year, and I promised to go and see it in situ. 

I had been waiting for the better weather, but it didn’t materialise, so with a few days off work I grabbed the bull by the horns, booked an Advance Return rail ticket from Tonbridge to Norwich. The idea was to combine visit to Colney, with a look around Norwich, taking in a few of the city's pubs, of course. The last occasion I'd had time to do this was in 2013, when I attended the CAMRA National AGM, held in the city's historic St. Andrews Halls.  After my late morning arrival, I jumped on a couple of buses which deposited me outside the entrance to the Woodland Burial Centre. It’s not at all easy trying to identify an individual plot in an area of woodland, however carefully it’s being managed, but fortunately I brought the plot references with me, and the helpful young man in the reception building, was able to guide me directly to the spot.

The setting itself was peaceful and beautiful at the same time, and I immediately felt at one with nature. There were wild daffodils growing everywhere, and I suspected at the time, if I was to return in May, the daffs would be replaced by bluebells. It was obviously an emotional moment, and after forwarding some photos to my sister in the United States, she replied that mum would be happy with that.

The tranquil setting of this woodland cemetery, with its carpet of wild daffodils, allowed me to reflect on the happy and untroubled childhood my parents had provided for me and my two sisters, and whilst I never really took the opportunity to thank them for this, I think that it’s only when you become older yourself, that you truly understand the importance of such things.